by Nalini Singh
36
Lijuan had only gone a quarter of the way to Rohan’s palace when her strength ran out. Heading to the ground before she fell out of the sky, her wings yet weak and useless appendages, she became corporeal.
Rage burned in her as she lay helpless on the earth, a torso with wings that barely moved when she attempted to flip herself over onto her front. Not that it would’ve mattered. She couldn’t even crawl fast; her single fully regenerated arm was as weak as her wings, the muscles trembling at the least exertion.
Unable to contain the fury, she struck out with one red-tipped hand. Black shards erupted, demolishing the trees in front of her to dust. She jerked . . . and then she smiled. This humiliating weakness was bearable if her deadly abilities were returning to their full strength. A Sleeping Alexander would have no defense against them. She was a goddess, while he had spent the past four hundred years in stasis.
He might’ve beaten her in combat when she was an angel on the verge of becoming an archangel and Alexander already an Ancient, but she was stronger than him now. He wouldn’t walk away from her this time, a tall golden-haired creature with silver wings who’d turned down what other men had coveted.
For a moment, she hesitated, echoes of that hopeful, sweet, smart girl in her soul. That girl had seen only wonder in the world. That girl had known Alexander was a piece of light that would burn through eternity, a man of war who had gained immeasurable wisdom over the ages he’d seen pass.
“My beautiful Zhou Lijuan.” His fingers brushing her cheekbones, his silver eyes holding her in thrall. “So delicate and strong and full of such power.”
Her palm tingled in a sudden sensory memory of closing over the thickness of his wrist. “Why won’t you be with me?” He admired her, she could see that. “I can walk by your side, be your partner as you would be mine.”
A gentle shake of his head. “You must grow on your own. Perhaps in seven thousand years, we can come together again. When you are in your power and we are equals. Now . . . I would crush you without meaning to, and you are destined for greatness.”
Seven thousand years.
It had passed, she suddenly realized. Perhaps killing him wasn’t the answer . . .
The rage rushed back in on a black roar. Not because Alexander had rejected her; she had forgotten that long ago, had fallen passionately in love with another man. For an eon, Alexander had been nothing but a sweet memory of her youth, one that caused her amused fondness. She’d been a pup in awe of a beautiful Ancient.
No, her rage came from the idea that Alexander, this silver-winged Sleeper of the prophecy, would one day seek to destroy her. No one had that right. And they weren’t equals. No one was her equal. She was Zhou Lijuan and she would rule the world before this Cascade was done.
Throwing back her head, she laughed for the first time since Raphael had hurt her.
37
Naasir sensed two more booby traps over the next three hours. Andromeda caught another one, warned by a change in the air currents that he’d dismissed as natural. It turned out it was an ancient trick Andromeda had read of in a book.
“You should read more,” she teased when he grumbled about missing the trap.
“You can read to me. I like listening to stories.”
“I will.”
Even in the darkness, he saw the sadness in her expression, knew she was once again hiding something from him. Frustrated he couldn’t confront her about it right then, he leaned in and nipped her ear again.
She jumped, then pushed his chest. “Stop it.” A scowl. “We’ll discuss your biting habit later.”
“The same time we discuss your habit of keeping secrets,” he said and saw her face fall. “Tunnels are starting to go steadily downhill.”
“If we run into a wing brother, don’t kill or injure.” Andromeda’s voice was urgent. “If Alexander is watching on some level, that will immediately turn him against us.”
Naasir scowled. “I’d planned to knock them out.”
“We could tie them up and gag them. There’s a T-shirt in the pack we can tear into strips.”
Naasir wasn’t convinced such measures would be effective against men and women as highly trained as the wing brothers, but knew she was right about not angering Alexander. Even gagging and tying up the sentinels could be read as an attack, but they had to take that risk.
He turned sideways, so the pack faced her. “Give me the T-shirt.”
When she put it into his hand, he used his claws to silently tear it into strips that she stuffed in an easily reachable pocket of the pack, working by touch.
He wanted to kiss her again. He hated being down here and he could see in the dark. It had to be a hundred times worse for her, but she kept going. “Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
Hands linked, they carried on. There were more traps, including one that he had to spring in order for them to pass. A hundred crossbow bolts embedded into the opposite wall with deadly force a heartbeat after he triggered the mechanism and spun out of the way. Only after they were all expended did Naasir crawl underneath, making a worried Andromeda wait on the other side and pushing the pack ahead of him in case there were pressure switches embedded in the tunnel floor.
They took a short break afterward, drinking water from the bottle in the pack and eating more of the dried food. Thankfully, they’d stored food in both packs.
“No more jerky,” Andromeda muttered, giving that to him. “I’m eating the nuts and fruits.”
He decided that was okay, since she’d had jerky while they were above. Eating the leathery meat gave him no pleasure but it was fuel and it would keep him going without blood for a while.
Washing it down with water, he rose and tugged up his mate. “It won’t be far now.”
“I’m okay. Excited.” A smile that lit up the darkest shadows. “We might be about to wake an Ancient. Right now, I don’t even care that he might wake angry.”
Nuzzling at her, he grinned. “Wild and fearless and a little bad. Perfect.”
Eyes sparkling in the darkness, she bit down on her full lower lip as if stifling a laugh.
He wanted to growl.
Vows of celibacy should be outlawed as far as he was concerned. However, since Andromeda had taken one, he’d honor it because her honor was important and he wouldn’t steal it from her. He would, however, happily end that vow by finding that stupid red book. “Let’s finish this.” So he could go hunt the Grimoire.
They continued to walk side by side until he scented a living being aside from him and Andromeda and the occasional large insect. He hadn’t mentioned the latter to his mate—she was tough but he’d seen full-grown warriors, male and female, shudder at the thought of insects. He’d test Andromeda’s tolerance later, when they weren’t trapped underground and she couldn’t see.
Releasing her hand, he touched her face to reassure her, then put the pack on the ground and moved forward on his own. The wing brother was standing at the entrance to a small cave, his eyes constantly scanning the tunnel and his crossbow held at the ready. No green youth this one.
By the time Naasir returned to Andromeda, her breathing was choppier than it had been, but she’d stayed in position. Hugging her, he cupped her nape and spoke directly into her ear. “There are two. One inside the cave, one at the entrance. I can take down the one outside relatively silently. You gag him and tie him up.”
She nodded.
“If the one inside hears, I’ll have to knock the first one unconscious and hope Alexander understands—our only advantage is surprise.”
Andromeda touched her hand to his jaw, ran her fingers up to his eyes.
“Yes,” he said. “They can see in the dark. Night vision goggles.” He rubbed his face against the side of hers. “We’ll steal you a pair. They’ll get rescued soon enough.”
She patted his chest in thanks and they separated to head toward the wing brothers after Andromeda pulled out some of the torn pieces of cloth.
* * *
It wasn’t until after Naasir left her that Andromeda realized she wouldn’t know if he’d taken down the wing brother and where, not without Naasir alerting her. And since the wing brothers were wearing night vision lenses, if she moved from this spot, she might give Naasir away. But she didn’t want him alone out there.
Biting her lip, she focused and realized there was the barest touch of light coming from somewhere. Not enough to really allow her to see, but that might change if she got a little closer. About to slide out her sword and creep forward, she felt something hit her lightly on the chest. She missed catching it but when she went to her knees and felt around on the sandy floor, her fingers slid over the distinct smooth curves of goggles.
Wasting no time, she put them on. The world around her was suddenly tinged an unearthly green, but she could see clearly.
Naasir had hauled his captive around and somehow managed to keep the wing brother contained and silent while he threw the goggles to her. Closing the distance to them on silent feet, she helped gag and bind the wing brother, the muscular man’s eyes furious with anger.
Task complete, Naasir jumped up onto the ceiling with such ease that she almost gasped. Winking at her, he went inside the cave. Creeping closer on foot, she watched as he dropped soundlessly from the ceiling and took down the wing brother, one hand over the other man’s mouth and a clawed hand around his throat as he used his body weight to pin the armed male to the earth.
Darting in, Andromeda tied and gagged the wing brother. Afterward, she whispered, “I’m sorry,” in his ear.
“Andi.”
Getting up at that low call, she crossed the cave to join Naasir at the mouth of what appeared to be a downward sloping tunnel. When she pushed up her goggles for an instant, it was clear to her that this was the source of the faint ambient light—it seemed to be coming from the rough stone of the walls itself.
Goggles back down, she released a shaky breath. “Yes, this must be it.”
“Start checking for traps. I’ll retrieve the pack.”
She was the one who finally found it, after five excruciatingly slow minutes that ended up with Naasir having to retie a wing brother who’d nearly escaped his bonds. In the ensuing scuffle, Naasir discovered the cave floor was a false one designed to collapse inward should the wing brothers activate the trap.
Depending on the depth of the fall, it would’ve surely broken any number of bones. That is, if the rockfall rigged to come down over the tunnel mouth didn’t bury them first.
“I’m starting to feel sorry for all the cave explorers,” Andromeda muttered, dusting off her arms after they stepped into the tunnel without setting off the booby trap, then deliberately collapsed the rockfall to impede pursuit by the wing brothers.
Alexander’s sentinels surely had other ways in but at least she and Naasir wouldn’t have to worry about danger at their backs—from that source at least. “I know they’ll come after us, but I hope the wing brothers don’t have to wait too long in the dark for rescue.”
“You have a soft heart,” Naasir said with an indulgent smile. “I’ll have to make sure people don’t take advantage of you.”
She should’ve scowled at him, but her heart turned to mush. He sounded so happy to have the task. And since he expected her to fight beside him, used her skills where necessary, it wasn’t as if he was being condescending. No, he was just being protective of the woman he wanted as his mate.
Her throat closed up, her face all stiff and hot. She was glad he’d turned his gaze forward and couldn’t see her. She should tell him she couldn’t be his mate, but the words kept getting stuck inside her, as if so long as she didn’t say them, they wouldn’t come true.
In front of her Naasir held up a hand. She halted.
But the wing brother had already spotted them. He gave a loud shout before they managed to subdue him. Pounding feet thundered in from several directions. Giving up on stealth, Andromeda and Naasir ran full-tilt, her wings getting badly bloodied and scraped in the narrow main passageway and Naasir’s hand locked tight around hers.
When he hauled her into a small cave and indicated another rigged rockfall he’d made sure they skirted, she took out her sword and triggered it. The rocks came down in a noisy crash that sent up clouds of dust.
Coughing into her hand, her teeth gritty from the dust she’d breathed in, she looked to Naasir. “Where?” He wouldn’t have asked her to trigger the rockfall if it would trap them; she knew enough of his senses to guess he’d seen, smelled, or heard something that had eluded her.
“This way.”
She followed the imprint of his footsteps in the sand to find herself in front of another tunnel with rough stone walls that pulsed with that eerie glow. Only this time, the tunnel had so steep a downward incline it was near vertical, the floor slick and shiny in comparison to the walls and the roof. “Damn it,” she muttered, sheathing her sword. “I’ll go first. You can come after me and push me down if my wings get stuck.”
Naasir shook his head. “No. I didn’t realize the sheer gradient from a distance. We’ll find another way out.”
Hearing sounds from the cave entrance that told her the rockfall blockade would soon no longer exist, she blew out a breath and tucked flyaway curls of her hair behind her ears. “No way to do that without killing a large number of wing brothers—don’t think they’re in the mood to talk anymore.”
“Your wings are already battered.” It was a growl, his hand lifting to very gently touch an undamaged part. “You could break something.”
A touch of her fingers to his jaw to reassure him. “It’ll heal.” Getting into the tunnel, she glanced once more at Naasir’s beloved face, tucked her wings in as tight as they could possibly go, and released her grip on the outer edges.
Feathers and skin ripped off as she barreled down, blood scenting the air. Fighting back tears at the stabbing pain of the damage on such sensitive skin, she tumbled out feetfirst into a sandy pit of some kind and forced herself to roll to one side at once.
The pack thudded home seconds later, Naasir landing in a crouch beside it.
Running to where she lay on her stomach on the sand, trying to breathe past the agony, he touched the back of her head and bent down to nuzzle at her. “We are almost there.”
Holding on to his affection, she got herself onto her hands and knees, then slowly sat up. She hadn’t been able to fight back the tears at the end and could feel sand sticking to the wetness, her breath coming in short hiccups. It would’ve humiliated her to be seen this way by others . . . but not Naasir.
Naasir would never even think of using her pain to cause emotional wounds.
Taking her face in his hands, he rubbed his nose over hers. “You’re very brave,” he said, silver eyes glowing in the darkness and fierce pride in his tone.
“So are you.” Her fingers trembled as she closed her hands around his wrists. “Alexander better not blast us after all this.”
A feral grin as he got to his feet and held out a hand to pull her up. Once she steadied, the ice and fire of the damage to her wings—as interpreted by her exposed nerve endings—no longer threatening to make her crumple, she looked around. They were at the bottom of a smooth stone bowl that appeared to have no exits, the sides so obviously sheer even Naasir’s claws would provide no purchase.
“I could fly up,” she said, because while her wings were badly damaged, they’d still hold her aloft. “Try to see if there’s an exit up top.”
Naasir shook his head, that vivid metallic hair shifting like liquid mercury even through the green-tinged vision of the goggles. “The sound isn’t right here.” Crouching down, he placed one hand on the sand, the other on his thigh, and cocked his head.
Andromeda stayed motionless, but used her eyes to scan everything in her field of vision. When Naasir changed position, she took the chance to turn so she could see the walls behind her.
Her eyes widened. “Naasir.”
&nbs
p; “There is a way out of here,” he muttered, head still cocked. “I can hear it.”
Breaking position and the airflow, she ran over to the wall directly in front of her. “Do you see?”
Naasir came to join her. Leaning close, he ran his fingers over the thin lines dug into the stone. “It’s a fragment of a larger design.”
“Yes.” She backed off to the far wall. Parts of the design had been worn away, but she could still put it together. “A raven.” Created of myriad intricate images that represented this land. “Alexander’s chamber must be—”
The ground shook like a dog unwilling to release its prey.
Naasir hauled her into his arms as stone crumbled down around them . . . and then the ground was just gone and they were falling at a screaming pace.
“Snap out your wings!” Naasir yelled, his arms easing as if he’d release her.
She held on to him with a death grip. “I can’t! Something is sucking us down.” The pressure was intense, threatening to crush the small bones in her wings. Those bones were incredibly strong, designed as they were by nature to hold her aloft, but right now, she felt as if they were seconds away from buckling. “Don’t let go!”
“I won’t.” Silver hair blowing back from his face, he tried to turn his head to scan the area, but the wind pressure was too strong to permit the movement.
Andromeda suddenly felt the air growing warmer around them. Understanding drying her throat, she managed to bend her head enough that she could look down. The movement was possible only because Naasir had kind of bent over her in an effort to protect.
At first, she didn’t see anything and it was only then that she realized the goggles had been ripped off her face by the wind. But she’d been able to see Naasir . . . and it wasn’t because of the luminescence from the walls.
A molten red glow came slowly into view, growing hotter with every split second of their descent. “The lava pit,” she said, Naasir’s ear close enough that she knew he’d hear.